


Tony Stark and the Artifact of the Hawai'ian Archipelago

by antigrav_vector



Series: Marvels: A Magazine Presents [1]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man - All Media Types, Iron Man Noir, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Noir, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 2016 Cap-IM holiday exchange, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arguments, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Empathy, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Island Survival, M/M, Magic, Magical Creatures, Making Out, Mermen, Merperson Steve Rogers, Misunderstandings, Near-death Experiences, Other, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Romance, Smut, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, community prompt, courting, emotion sharing, magical transformation, mer!steve, mythical creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: Tony's on a solo flight, scouting out the area around the atolls in the mid Pacific on a mission from Fury to try to find an artifact that no one can describe. Hell, there's not even really a consensus on what it can do. But Fury wants to get his hands on it if he can. Tony manages to get there, but then his plane sinks. Yes, sinks. He'd anchored it off the island's shoreline, since the island itself had no room for a runway, being rather too tiny. And now he's stranded.Luckily he no longer needs to recharge the repulsor pump every few days.Giving in to the need, Tony scouts the island. He finds very little that will help him. There are no animals here but small songbirds, so he'll have to find a way to catch fish to eat until Pepper and Jarvis can come get him...





	1. [One day earlier] - New York, New York

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cap Iron Man Community](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cap+Iron+Man+Community).



> A fill for two 2016 Cap-IM holiday exchange community prompts:  
> 1 - "Tony re-enacts castaway 60 years before it came out, Fury wonders where his loose cannon has gone, and we all learn that mermen are real."  
> 2 - "Shower sex."
> 
> With thanks to Dapperanachronism for beta reading.

"For the last time, General," Pepper told the infuriating man over the airship's radio, where she'd been sitting trying to contact Mr. Stark once again, "he's _not here_. We haven't seen or heard from him since you sent him off on that ridiculous solo mission to the Pacific. In fact, given that Mr. Stark hasn't made contact in more than a week, I'm inclined to declare him missing and pry the information out of you about where exactly you sent him!"

"Now see here, Potts," he growled back, "I could have you jailed for that kind of talk."

"Come off it, Fury," Pepper didn't give an inch. "I'm not under your chain of command, and neither is Mr. Stark. Your threat won't hold water, and I know several damned good lawyers."

She could hear the nearly subvocal wordless growl come down the line in reply. It felt like it lasted hours as she waited him out. "I should court martial all of ya'," Fury muttered, but he gave her what she wanted. "Fine. Go get his accident-prone ass back Stateside. I need that information, hear? No side trips."

"Give me his itinerary, Fury, and his last known location, or so help me--"

"Fer Pete's sake!"

"I'm waiting. The longer you resist, the longer you'll have to wait to get that information," she taunted him.

"Pack yer bags," Fury shot back, clearly angry and not caring that she knew it, "yer goin' to Hawai'i first. Refuel at the army base, then continue on to Midway Island. That's where we lost contact with him. The army base reported that he arrived at Midway but never made it back. They assumed he simply flew straight through to California or stopped elsewhere, when they couldn't raise him, since they were informed he was on a top secret mission for SHIELD."

Nodding to herself Pepper started planning. "See you in a few days, then, General."

Fury hung up on her without another word.

Pepper sniffed at the receiver she still held. What an aggravating ass. At least he was effective as a commander.

Standing, she left the room. "Mr. Jarvis!"

There was a clatter and a string of curses that turned the air blue before the grizzled old veteran, mechanic, and field medic appeared in the doorway of his workshop. "What is it?" he grumbled, rubbing at the back of his head.

"I'm filing our flight plan," Pepper told him, and watched the man come to attention with satisfaction. "We leave for Hawai'i the moment air traffic control clears us."

"Fury told you where we can find him, then," Jarvis guessed shrewdly.

"More or less. He didn't have a precise location, but it should be enough. Mr. Stark is far from subtle."

Jarvis huffed. "That's an understatement. I'll lock down the 'shop. Give me fifteen minutes."

Pepper smiled. "Let's go get the idiot back. He owes me a damned good story to publish."

The flight out to Hawai'i would take about twelve hours at the airship's top speed. With any luck -- if Tony was alright -- they'd have him back in about sixteen. If Pepper was any judge, Mr. Jarvis would put on the War Machine armour and physically haul Tony back aboard if that became necessary.


	2. [Eight days earlier] - Midway Atoll

Checking over the small personal plane he'd bought outright for this little expedition, knowing how often his equipment got destroyed through no fault of his own, Tony grinned. The little Stinson was a dream to fly, really, and he was looking forward to using it for other missions he ran. Having access to a plane was never a bad thing. Sure, they had the airship, but it was enormous, slow, and handled a bit like a whale. Granted, the little personal craft's range was rather limited, so it would be most useful if he stored it in the belly of the airship and stocked it with extra fuel cans, but the point of having it was more so that he could run missions like this.

He'd christened it Wilma.

Patting the side of the fuselage where the wing met the body of the plane, Tony did one last check, noting that all systems looked to be in good shape. He was equipped with everything from fresh water, to fuel, to parachutes, and now all he needed was to get going.

He'd filed his flight plans the day before while he'd made his stopover at the Hawai'ian army base and let ground control know that he was planning to spend one night at Midway then refuel before making his trip to the tiny island of Laysan[1] and heading on back to Oahu afterwards. He'd done so primarily so that they knew not to expect him to stay at Midway afterwards, which had no control tower of its own[2], and only a minimal excuse for a town to house the guys maintaining the airfield. There was virtually no extra space they could use to house visitors, and Tony himself, despite his celebrity status, had been relegated to a rather uncomfortable fold out cot that had been produced out of some dusty storage room.

Tony set aside the thoughts in favor of doing his pre-flight checks. It was just after 0530, and the summer morning was still cool. The ocean breeze ruffling his hair and clothes made a shiver run through him, lightly dressed as he was to compensate for the noonday heat he knew was coming.

Starting the motors manually and jumping into the plane before it could try to roll off, Tony carefully revved the engine to warm it up and fumbled the radio headset on. There was no one else on the airfield this early, so no one for him to radio or queue up behind to wait for access to the runway, but it was ingrained habit, thanks to Jarvis' nagging and Fury's. In the long run, it really was simply easier for him to put up with wearing the headset than to deal with the repeated lectures afterwards if he didn't.

Letting Wilma roll out onto the tarmac of the runway that faced into the northeasterly winds, Tony revved the engine again and mentally prepared himself for takeoff.

He would be heading east-southeast for about half an hour, towards the tiny reef island that was his destination. It was just a few klicks too far from Oahu for him to make it there and back in his two-seater plane in one trip, hence the overnight stop at Midway, and was far too small to have a runway or any other kind of structure on it. This way he could carry enough fuel in the tiny cargo hold of his plane to ensure he had enough range to make the return trip.

On top of that, because his destination had no runway, he'd been forced to sacrifice some of the already minimal freight capacity of his little plane to have her fitted with pontoons, so that he could land and take off on the water. He hadn't had enough cash handy to buy a seaplane[3], unfortunately, so the improvised solution would have to do.

Shaking off the thoughts, and refocusing on the slight vibration that came with having his plane facing into the light winds, Tony hit the throttle, gradually opening up the taps until he felt the wheels of his plane leave the runway. The feeling of having his stomach drop down into his boots during takeoff was an exhilarating one, and Tony loved it every time.

He settled again once he was in the air, and took the time to visually confirm that the weather forecast had been correct. It had called for clear skies during the morning, followed by the usual scattered thunderstorms that were common during the summer and mostly occurred during the afternoon, just after the air temperatures peaked.

For now everything looked clear.

\------

Stomping down the beach in the pounding afternoon rain and cursing, Tony regretted having agreed to Fury's demand that he make this trip. The legends had claimed that the lake at the center of the island was somehow fresh water and drinkable, unlike the water sources on the other reef islands that made up the Hawai'ian archipelago. The legends had further stated that there was some kind of treasure hidden at the bottom of the lake that kept it pristine like that, though they disagreed on what, exactly, that object was, and what else it could do.

Some claimed it could control the weather. Others that it did nothing at all. A third account asserted that it was technological trickery rather than magic -- some kind of advanced filtration system -- but didn't account for the fact that the island was uninhabited and had no infrastructure to support such a piece of machinery.

Whatever it was, Fury had wanted to get his hands on it.

Tony had, too, really. His curiosity had always been his most exploitable weakness. Well, aside from his bad ticker. But now at least he had the orichalcum powering the repulsor pump, so at least, he told himself as he kicked at the wet sand, he wouldn't run out of charge.

The rain and strong winds that had hit the island at about 2 pm, as predicted, had whipped up the seas into relatively high waves, and the force behind them had been enough to pull his plane loose of its anchor and sink it. How, exactly, Tony wasn't sure. He'd been fighting his way back through the underbrush to the beach at the time.

In any case, he was stuck.

Marooned, without water, food, or radio, or even much in the way of tools. He hadn't brought much more onto the island with him other than a flashlight, a cigarette lighter, and his machete, thinking that he could go back to his plane for the rest, if he needed it.

He was definitely regretting that now. Tony made a face as his stomach growled at him. He needed water, shelter, food, and fire, in that order. Hefting his machete, he stalked grumpily back towards the thick underbrush to cut down a long straight sapling about his height. It didn't bend too much under its own weight, which was good for his purposes. Tony settled on the beach, ignoring the rain, and continued hacking at the sapling. It didn't take him long to clean off the small branches and sharpen one end of it to a point. 

What he needed now was the patience to wait for the storm to pass. It was lingering rather longer than the afternoon storms usually did in this region of the world, and that was odd. Possibly magical, if his instincts were correct. But some ten minutes later, the sun was shining cheerfully down on him, and the fury of the breaking waves had calmed again.

Tony took that as implicit permission from the weather to make an attempt at spear fishing.

He took his sapling in hand and removed his boots and shirt, then waded carefully into the water, avoiding the sharp edges of the coral reef as much as he could. He had no desire to give himself a cut or a scrape and have it get infected.

It took him the better part of an hour, in the end, his inexperience making him clumsy, but eventually Tony resurfaced with a reasonably large parrot fish in his hands. 

Retreating under the shade of the palms lining the beach, he kept moving until he found a banana tree[4], and cut a large leaf for himself. Cleaning the fish, then wrapping it in the leaf, he set the bundle aside, careful not to get sand in it. Right. Next order of business was finding some deadwood and tinder.

Climbing the palm that had chosen to grow almost horizontally out over the sand of the beach, Tony carefully gathered up any dry fronds he could get his hands on, as well as the fibres he found lining the trunk[5]. He could use those to build his fire, and start it with the lighter he'd left in his shirt pocket. Luckily for him, the tree also had a cluster of coconuts nestled in the fronds at the top. He took those, too. He had nothing to collect water in, but one of these would do the trick. And in the meantime, he could drink what was inside.

That took care of his immediate needs, he thought, satisfied with his work.

The fish, once he'd cooked it, tasted wonderful, and the coconut water was even better. He hadn't realised just how thirsty he'd gotten until he'd opened one of the nuts with his machete and carefully tipped some of the water out into his mouth. After that it had been difficult to keep himself from downing it all in one long swallow.

He finished his meal just in time to watch the sun set in a blaze of pinks, reds, and oranges, highlighting those few thunderstorms on the horizon that had yet to dissipate.

What he needed next, Tony reflected, was shelter. And a way to call for help would be nice. Swimming from one island to the next would be difficult at best, and he hadn't the tools or the knowhow to build himself a boat sturdy enough to make the trip. Building himself a raft would have been a possibility, but that would have left him with no ability to control where he ended up, and Tony had very little desire to get himself lost at sea or dumped into the water.

Rather than fret about that now, Tony got to his feet again. He didn't want to move, full and satisfied as he was, but he knew better. Going back into the brush blanketing the island and locating a stand of banana trees, he cut himself another handful of leaves. For right now the important thing was shelter from the sun and the rain. They wouldn't last long, but the leaves would do that for him at least for the night, and the next day.

On his way back to his little campsite, Tony collected another five saplings as well. It didn't take him long to build himself a two-man shelter, leaving himself a bit of room to store things if needed, by assembling a structure resembling a tent frame to place the leaves on, taking advantage of the trunk of the palm he'd climbed earlier[6]. He didn't much care for the idea of sleeping on the ground, but he had little choice in the matter, as long as he was without the means to make himself a hammock.

Hoping he wasn't about to get eaten alive by the mosquitoes, but knowing he likely would, Tony settled himself in his makeshift shelter, and tried to get comfortable. It only halfway worked, but he was worn out enough to fall asleep the moment his eyes closed.

\------------

[1] For reference, I'm including [a map of the archipelago](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b6/Hawaiianislandchain_USGS.png). Click here to return to text.

[2] The airfield at Midway Atoll was critical to the success of the Allies in the Pacific Theatre during WWII. It remained an important refueling point for trans-pacific flights for many years afterwards. The airfield itself was called [Henderson Field](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henderson_Field_\(Midway_Atoll\)). For those of you interested, here's a photo of it, taken a few years prior to the date this fic is set: [(Midway Atoll in Nov 1941, Eastern Island in the foreground)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Midway_Atoll.jpg). Click here to return to text.

[3] For those of you who, like me, don't know a lot about planes, here's a [wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seaplane). Click here to return to text.

[4] Yes, I looked this up too. Bananas do indeed grow in Hawai'i, and they're apparently [recovering from something](http://beatofhawaii.com/hawaii-bananas-could-be-set-for-resurgence/). Click here to return to text.

[5] Palm trees are actually great sources of tinder. Just look at [all the fiber](https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/palm-tree-fibers-chit-thatch-thrinax-radiata-59871737.jpg) coating the trunk. Click here to return to text.

[6] And one more link about survival techniques: [How to build a lean-to](http://www.practicalsurvivor.com/leanto). Tony uses a variation on this, but it's fundamentally the same. Click here to return to text.


	3. [Seven days earlier] - Laysan

Tony came awake with a quiet groan the next morning, woken by the sunlight hitting the leaves of half his shelter. He itched all over and sleeping on the ground had left his muscles stiff and sore. Sitting up and stretching, he yawned. "Ugh, what I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee, right now," he grumbled to himself.

He broke his fast with the remains of his dinner, which had somehow survived the night intact, and another coconut, then settled on the beach in the shade of his little shelter, and tried to come up with a plan. He needed to try to locate the wreckage of his plane. If nothing else, he needed to get at the water canisters he'd brought with him. And he was fairly sure there was a survival kit aboard, as well, that contained a blanket and possibly some rope or a signal mirror. 

But locating his plane would not be an easy task.

He knew where he'd anchored it. But it could easily have been blown far out to sea before it sank by the strong winds the storm had brought with it. Or carried by the ocean currents as it sank. Or both.

There was no guarantee it was close enough to the island to be easily reachable.

Tony sighed. He needed the supplies, though. He had to at least make the attempt. Luckily the ocean surrounding the island was shallow for several kilometers around. So, really, the important thing would be to make sure he didn't overextend himself.

Leaving his little shelter again and squinting in the bright morning sunlight, Tony tried to gauge the heights of the palm trees nearby. They all seemed to be about the same height. Picking out the one that towered above the rest by a meter or so, Tony removed his belt from his hips and wrapped it around the tree instead, one end in each of his hands, then started climbing, walking up the trunk and hitching his belt higher with each step. Before long, he reached the crown of the tree, and took a moment to catch his breath. It'd been a while since he'd climbed anything, and it was clear he needed the practice.

As he recovered from the climb, Tony raised his head and scanned the waves, shading his eyes with one hand and looking for the distinctive shape of his plane's fuselage. He couldn't _quite_ see out to the edge of the shallow waters around the island from here, but his view of the first half klick of water was clear enough.

It took him a few minutes of searching, the movements of the water and the sunlight reflecting off it confusing him a little, but eventually he spotted the oblong shape of the fuselage and the shadows cast by the plane's wings. Unsurprisingly it had landed upsidedown, the pontoons doing exactly what they were supposed to -- keeping the plane afloat -- for all that the winds had flipped the plane onto its roof. It had drifted almost half a klick before it had gotten wedged into a small gap in the reefs surrounding the island.

That was good news for Tony. Granted, the plane was useless to him for the duration and not flightworthy anymore, but at least it would stay put until he could get to it, and there was a good chance that whoever came to pick him up would be able to help him recover it. From his vantage point, the damage to the plane appeared to be minimal. Odds were good that he would just have to empty the seawater out of the engine and lube everything back up again.

Taking his time before climbing back down to the ground, Tony's eyes caught on a flicker of movement in the water around his plane. Whatever it was was big, too. Probably a reef shark. Oddly, it seemed to disappear inside the plane for a moment, but Tony dismissed that as his imagination. There was nothing in there for a shark to go after, and the hatches were shut. He hadn't even been carrying a lot of food. A couple of well-sealed MREs, and not much more.

Shaking his head to clear it of his wandering thoughts, Tony carefully descended the tree and made his way back to his campsite. Stripping off his shirt and boots again, Tony carefully took his bearings. He didn't know the water currents around here, so if he wanted to actually get to his plane, he'd have to keep a careful eye on what direction he was going.

Sticking the machete through his belt at his hip, Tony waded into the water. If that was a shark, he might need a blade.

It took him almost ten minutes to get to his plane, but get there he did. Taking a moment to tread water and catch his breath in preparation for his dive to get at his supplies, Tony scanned the waters. Whatever big animal had been here seemed to have vanished. Well, so much the better. He could get his supplies in peace.

Taking a deep breath and kicking out to send himself down the meter or so to the plane's passenger door, Tony opened his eyes and let himself get accustomed to the sting of the saltwater. It took him a moment, but once he adjusted, he could make out the plane, and the door he was aiming to get in through. He was a bit surprised to find it open. It ought to have still been shut tight by all rights.

Setting the mystery aside as his hands touched the sides of the open hatch, Tony pulled himself through and set about taking everything he could scavenge. The cargo netting that he'd used to secure his supplies was his first priority. He detached it from its mounts and began filling it with whatever was at hand. He found two of his three water canisters, the survival kit, a tank of fuel that was intact, and his MREs.

Feeling that he was beginning to run out of air, Tony gathered up the corners of the cargo netting and hauled his salvage back out of the plane and to the surface. It was quite heavy, for all that it was almost neutrally buoyant, and he knew he'd have to really work to get all of it back to the shore.

Debating for a minute, Tony pulled the jerry can back out of the netting. He had nothing on shore that needed the fuel, and it was still sealed up tight. Carefully, he dropped it back into the plane, and started for the shore. He could come back for the fuel if he found he needed it. The canister would be fine for a few years, even in salt water. The fresh water and the food that he'd recovered were critical, though.

Starting to swim slowly back toward the shore, taking his time, Tony tried not to fight the currents too much. It would be easier to walk back along the beach than to waste all his energy trying to force the ocean to let him go in a straight line.

Oddly, Tony felt like there were eyes on him, for all that he scanned the horizon repeatedly as he swam and saw nothing. No boats or planes were passing anywhere nearby. There was no reason to feel watched, and yet he did.

Pushing the feeling aside, Tony focused on getting his salvage back to his campsite. It took him more than an hour, but it was well worth it. Spreading the sopping blanket from the survival kit over the leaves that made up his roof to dry and peeling his soaked pants off to hang them over the palm tree's trunk, Tony settled himself back in the shade of his shelter, and used a few handfuls of fresh water to clean the salt back off his skin. It felt wonderful. He drank the next few handfuls, careful not to spill a drop of the precious liquid, and lay back on the warm sand, nude, for a well deserved nap.

He came awake a few hours later, as the hottest part of the day was passing, and took his time brushing the sand back off his body as he waited out the thunderstorm that hit like clockwork, lashing at the island with its winds and rain. It had ended up in several very uncomfortable places. Pulling his pants back on and shoving his feet back into his boots without bothering to lace them, Tony made his way off the beach and into the brush to find a spot where he could relieve the pressure on his bladder.

Rather than try to catch another parrotfish, now that he knew there were potentially aggressive reef sharks around to make life that little bit more harrowing, Tony opted for one of his three MREs.

That night, when he bedded down, he strung the cargo netting up to hang from the trunk of his palm tree and wrapped himself in the blanket, turning it into something like a cocoon. He slept soundly and dreamlessly, rocked gently and warm.


	4. [Six days earlier] - Laysan

This time, when he woke, Tony felt great. The improvised hammock had been worth the effort it had taken to set up, and the aches he'd gotten sleeping on the ground had all but disappeared.

He got a bit of a surprise when he left his shelter, though.

Instinct had immediately warned him that he was being watched, again, and this time, Tony thought he spotted someone swimming in the shallows.

Whoever it was spooked when he called out to them, though, and disappeared, diving under the water and managing not to come up again anywhere within Tony's line of sight. He'd watched for something close to two minutes.

That was when he started getting uneasy.

If that was a person out there and not a figment of his imagination, brought on by too much time under the tropical sun, he was going to have to go after whoever it was. Two minutes was already a length of time most people struggled to spend underwater, and more was difficult even for strong swimmers.

Pulling his boots off, Tony resigned himself to going after the person he'd seen. Thought he'd seen. Whatever. He couldn't _not_ make an effort and risk letting someone drown through his own inaction.

Wading hurriedly into the water -- it would take him at least a minute to reach the spot where he'd seen someone -- Tony struck out hard, pushing the limits of his strength enough to assuage his conscience. When he reached the spot, roughly a quarter of a klick from the beach, he paused to tread water and search for whoever it was. The person had looked vaguely masculine from the beach, but at that distance appearances could be deceptive.

There was no one to be seen, though, and Tony hesitated. If he'd imagined the pale hair and face appearing out of the waves, he would do better to get back to shore. The thing was, his conscience wouldn't let him give up so easily.

If there truly was someone out here, he needed to help them.

Taking a deep breath, Tony dove, sending himself under the waves. He himself might not be able to hold his breath for more than two and a half minutes, but that was enough time to scout out the immediate area around him.

Or, well, it would have been, had the tide not turned while he'd been searching the waves. As he tried to get back to the surface, Tony found himself caught in a riptide caused by a gap in the reefs that was acting like a funnel, pulling him inexorably away from the shore and down.

It sent him tumbling, disorienting him completely, and Tony struggled not to lose consciousness as the lack of oxygen began to catch up with him.

As his vision went dark, Tony got an impression of worried blue eyes and strong arms closing around him.

\------

Opening his eyes, Tony found himself staring at the leaves he'd used to build his little shelter.

Confused, Tony tried to reconcile his memories with where he was. Had it all been a dream? Had he gotten his sore muscles from the swim he remembered making, or from taking a tumble out of his improvised hammock? Was the sand sticking to his skin because he'd gotten sweaty or because he'd taken that dive?

Groaning, Tony rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles.

Maybe the sun and the isolation were getting to him.

Raking his hair back out of his face and making a face at the sheer amount of salt and sand that came loose as he did, Tony sat up.

When he left the shade of his shelter, intending to get himself some water to drink and go see if any of the bananas on those trees he'd taken leaves from were ripe enough to eat, Tony got a shock.

Those blue eyes he'd thought he'd dreamed up met his, and the guy smiled. "Good, you're awake," he said, the odd whistling tone of his voice only half hidden under the words.

It took Tony a stunned moment to find the words to reply. "So it was you I saw out there."

The guy looked a bit sheepish, and Tony realised belatedly that his savior and guest was nude save for a large-ish filigree pendant hung around his neck from some kind of unfamiliar fibre. "Yeah. Didn't mean for that to happen."

The wording of that was a bit suspicious, but Tony set that aside for the moment. "You from around here? What's your name?"

The guy seemed to hesitate before he answered. "My name is Steve, and no. I was traveling through. What about you?"

The strange answers were piling up. Deciding to stockpile them for later, Tony huffed at the guy. "I was, too. I'd planned to get back to Oahu two days ago, but a storm put my plane out of commission."

Steve gave him an unreadable look. "The new wreckage is yours?"

"Not by choice," Tony reminded him.

"It'll poison the reef." Steve said acidly. "Do you have any idea how long that damage will last?"

That was far more concern than anyone but a local would show for such things. relaxing slightly, Tony replied, "I have no way to get it back out of there. Well, not until someone comes for me. If Pepper and Jarvis bring the airship, I probably could. But I have no radio to call them with."

Actually, it was kind of surprising that no one had come for him yet. His return flight plan had been filed, and the fact that he hadn't shown up should have been remarked.

Steve distracted him from that train of thought, his own expression somewhat mollified. "How long do you think you'll be here?"

Tony shrugged. "No idea. Until my friends notice I'm missing and come looking, probably."

Steve nodded. "Don't try to drown yourself this time, then. Don't come after me."

"So that _was_ you." Tony gave him a dark look. "And I wasn't trying to drown myself, thanks. I wouldn't even have been out there if I hadn't thought _you_ were drowning."

Steve raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't reply to that.

A short silence fell, and Tony took advantage of it to think. Or try to, anyway. He kept getting distracted by Steve's nakedness. It was something of an open secret, at least among the people who mattered, that he liked both genders. Normally, it wasn't an issue. Generally speaking, Tony knew how to keep his hands and his wants to himself. This particular situation was a bit of an exception to all the rules. Usually, he didn't find himself this strongly tempted, but usually he wasn't alone with the object of his desires on an uninhabited island, either.

Steve's ridiculous musculature was just begging to be touched, and Tony was finding it increasingly difficult to resist the longer he saw it.

"What happened to your pants?" He blurted out, shattering the silence, and gaining himself a confused look from Steve.

"Pants?" Steve looked down at himself. "Ah. Lost them."

How the hell did one _lose_ a pair of pants? Tony gave him a skeptical look.

"In the storm?" Steve tried, looking a bit sheepish.

"You know," Tony replied mildly, "while I certainly don't mind the view, I don't think I believe you."

Steve scrubbed at his face with his hands and said nothing.

He could tell he was onto something now, so Tony didn't let it drop. "You didn't lose them, did you. Are you a nudist?"

Steve blushed. "No."

"What is going on here, then?" Tony persisted. "You can swim better than anyone short of an Olympic athlete, if not better still; you hauled me back to shore from however far out I got pulled by that current, so you're clearly as strong as you look; you don't have any pants; and you're out here without a boat or a plane, even though this is about as far as you can get from civilization even with one. You can't have swum all the way here from Oahu."

Steve looked distinctly uncomfortable. "But I did?"

"I definitely don't believe that. You may have saved my life -- and I am very grateful -- but you're one hell of a mystery."

Shifting uncomfortably where he sat, Steve sighed. "You won't let this go, will you."

It wasn't strictly, a question. Tony shrugged. "It's a personal failing," he shot back, making a joke out of the truth.

"Fine." Steve stood, catching Tony off guard, and strode purposefully down the slope to the beach.

After a startled beat, Tony hurried after him. He was too late to stop Steve from wading into the water and throwing himself full length into the waves the moment it was deep enough to cover his waist. The water closed over Steve's head, and Tony threw himself after the man without thinking.

Before he could go far, strong arms closed around him and urged him back to the surface. The sight that met his eyes was enough to make Tony want to sit down. That... Steve was a merman.

Well, if that didn't beat all.

Steve was watching him warily, clearly uncertain of the reaction he would get, but confident enough that he wouldn't risk an attack to reveal what he was.

The odd whistling tone of Steve's voice suddenly made perfect sense, and Tony wanted to laugh. Jesus, but he always seemed to get himself into some weird scrapes.

"Well," he managed to say after a tense silence, "that explains how you swam here."

Steve made an amused sound. He didn't reply verbally, though, choosing instead to use a melodic fluting whistle. 

"You can't talk like this, can you?" Tony guessed. Steve shrugged, staying silent, and Tony nodded. "Alright. Come on back to shore."

Relief ran through Steve like a wave rushing over the sand of the sloping beach head, and he let go of Tony to swim a short ways away and do whatever he did to transform those lovely shimmery navy blue scales of his tail into legs suited to land.

The reality of it, Tony admitted to himself, was that Steve was even more elegant when he was half-fish. And no, he wasn't going to indulge those thoughts right this moment. 

The last thing he needed right now was an erection he needed to try to explain away or ignore.

When Steve resurfaced, what seemed like a lot later to Tony, he held a still-wriggling fish in his hands. Offering it to Tony, he gave Tony a rueful smile.

Tony eyed it for a minute, before he nodded at his camp. "Well, don't just stand there," he prompted. "Bring that back to camp and we'll cook it."

"Cook... it?"

Tony gave him an amused look. "If I eat that the way it is, it could make me very sick," he explained.

"Ah." 

By the time they'd waded back out of the waves, gathered enough tinder, built a fire, and cleaned and cooked the fish, the sun was high overhead and Tony found he was quite hungry.

For his part, Steve looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to eat any of the cooked fish. Tony had to admit that it was a rather bland meal, since he had nothing to season the fish with.

After the first experimental nibble, though, Steve's eyes went wide, and he all but inhaled the rest of his half of the catch. Tony watched him, knowing his amusement had to show clearly, and savoured his half of the fish. Even without any spices to liven it up, or wine to wash it down, the fish tasted wonderful. 

They sat in silence for a while after the fish had disappeared, and it felt oddly companionable. As though they'd known one another a lot longer than the six hours or so it had been in reality. Or, at least, it felt that way to Tony. The look of near bliss on Steve's face as he reclined in the sand might have been a result of the effect of cooking the fish.

Tony found himself admiring the features of Steve's face again. Shaking his head to clear it only had his eyes catching on Steve's well-muscled arms and torso, though, which wasn't much better.

Unsure what to do about the sudden very strong attraction he felt -- Steve was going to just waltz back out of his life as smoothly as he'd waltzed in, after all -- Tony did his best to bury it. He shouldn't even be thinking about having sex with Steve, anyway. Who knew what kinds of consequences that kind of thing would have. Tony sure didn't, and he was considered one of the foremost experts on magic and magical creatures.

Maybe someone like Namor might know.

Tony resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Even thinking that had pained him in a way that was almost physical. He was _not_ going to look up that irascible old pirate to ask him a question like that. He shuddered. The very thought.

"Tony?"

Steve sounded like he was wondering what Tony was thinking about, and that was enough to make Tony clear his throat, embarrassed by the turn his thoughts had taken. "Yeah?"

"What will you do if no one comes?"

That... Tony winced. That was a possibility he hadn't considered, confident that Pepper and Jarvis wouldn't just let him slip off the map like that. "I don't know," he admitted candidly. "I don't think that will happen, though. My friends will come looking."

Steve looked dubious. "That would take dedication."

Tony grinned. "They have that in spades," he reassured Steve. "Meantime, I have enough water for about three more days, and that gives me enough time to find a way to collect more. Food isn't a problem, either, and I have a place to sleep."

All in all, he was actually in good shape as far as survival necessities went.

Steve looked unconvinced, but he accepted Tony's assertion. Soon after, because the sun was setting, he waded back into the waves and disappeared. Steve needed to find himself a place to bed down for the night, and make sure it was secure. Tony knew that. But he still felt bereft and lonely.

He'd been craving company far more than he'd realised if he was reacting like this to a damned merman.

Doing his best to force the thoughts aside, Tony wrapped himself back in his blanket and tried to settle himself comfortably in his makeshift hammock. It was more difficult than it had been the previous night, and Tony wasn't sure whether that was because he'd met Steve or because he simply wasn't as worn out.

Either way, he ended up spending at least an hour staring at his 'ceiling' before he could clear his mind enough to sleep.


	5. [Five days earlier] - Laysan

Tony woke to the sound of a shrill, but oddly melodic, whistle.

Startled, he jumped, and dumped himself out of his hammock with his flailing. Landing on his right side with a grunt, he hastily disentangled himself from his blanket and pulled his pants on.

Stifling a yawn and grumbling -- it was far too early; the sun wasn't even fully up yet -- Tony ducked out of his small shelter and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Steve laughed at him, the chuckle distinct, even with the slight wheeze underlying it.

When Tony focused on him, Steve shifted his weight. He'd beached himself, leaving his scales in the surf pounding the shore, and his torso just above the line of wet sand that the waves left behind, supporting his weight on his elbows and somehow managing not to sink down into the sand. That lovely dark blue tail curled up, out of the water, in a move Tony would have called coy, if he hadn't known better.

"Alright," he muttered, still grumpy but reluctantly charmed by Steve's good mood, "what is it?"

Steve grinned at him, reminding Tony of a retriever puppy, and pushed himself up onto his palms. He pushed himself back into the water and waited expectantly. Tony didn't bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the merman.

It was clear that whatever Steve wanted involved a swim. Otherwise, he'd have probably just strolled right up onto the beach.

"I swear," he told Steve as he stripped down to his pants again and shivered in the cool pre-dawn air, "this better be good."

The water was cool where it washed around his ankles as he waded gingerly into the surf, and Tony just knew he would be cold throughout whatever Steve had in mind. Oblivious to his thoughts, Steve all but danced around him, making tight circles in the shallow water and twining around his legs rather like a cat, when the water reached Tony's hips. It brought a rather indulgent and fond smile to Tony's face that he decided he would deny unto his dying day. But Steve was cute, for lack of a better word.

Carefully and consciously, Tony pushed away the knowledge that that was only making Steve more attractive, somehow.

Even if Steve returned the interest, which was very unlikely, that little relationship was going strictly nowhere. Tony couldn't in good conscience take him back to New York. 

He was jerked back out of his thoughts when Steve tackled him bodily into the water.

Suddenly on his back with seawater trying to run up his nose, Tony flailed for a moment before he managed to orient himself. Scowling at Steve, he kicked out and grabbed for the damn fishman, only to have Steve neatly evade him. He tried twice more, and failed both times, then gave in to the need for air and struck out for the surface.

Steve followed, hooking an arm around his waist, and pulling him along as he sped for the surface. Tony expected him to stop, though. Expected him to let go. Steve did neither of those things, pushing himself into a dolphin like leap that Tony was dragged along for. He had just enough time for a quick breath of air and a sense of 'oh-wow-that's-high' before the water was rushing back up to meet them, thanks to gravity's influence.

Reeling a little, Tony let himself be carried along as they skimmed under the waves for a few meters, just below the surface. When Steve paused, Tony took the opportunity to wriggle insistently free until he could get back to the surface and take a proper breath.

Steve didn't let him linger there for long. He gave Tony a few seconds, then deftly looped his arms around Tony's waist again. Tony had just enough time to take a breath before Steve was repeating the maneuver, sending them down just far enough to bring the sandy ocean floor within reach of Tony's fingertips, and then was sending them arrowing toward the surface at a speed that would have taken Tony's breath away were he not underwater. They went arcing into the air, even higher than the first time, and Tony couldn't hold back his elated whoop. He just about managed to take another breath before they broke the water's surface, this time.

Steve tired of the game after another couple of jumps, and sent them away from the island's shoreline and out to the deeper waters beyond the reefs. Not being able to see the island anymore made Tony more than a little uneasy, but he was willing to roll with this, for now. Steve had yet to show any sign of being malicious, and Tony knew he could get back to shore if he had to. Probably. 

Putting the thought aside when Steve slowed, Tony took a deep breath on a hunch.

Steve, clearly feeling the change in buoyancy, simply tightened his hold on Tony's waist slightly and then they were diving almost straight down. Tony had to hastily equalise the pressure on his ears before it began to pain him. Before he knew it, they were ten meters below the surface, and Steve was pointing out something below them. It took Tony a long moment to decipher what he was looking at, the salt water stinging at his eyes and blurring his vision slightly.

It was the clicks and squeaks that clued Tony in. Steve had found a pod of dolphins, and hauled him out here to show them off. It was working, too. Tony forgot to be concerned about his air supply in favor of enjoying the rush as Steve simply joined the pod in its trajectory. The tone of the clicks and squeaks changed when he did, and Tony eventually realised that Steve was replying in the same coin.

One of the animals, more curious than the others, swam right up to him and nosed at him. Caught up in the wonder that seemed to surge through him at the touch, Tony reached out and ran his hands over its skin. It seemed to wriggle in pleasure before darting off again.

When his lungs spasmed, it caught Tony by surprise, but Steve had obviously anticipated it. He sent them back to the surface, and lingered there as Tony panted for breath.

Rather than dive back down, though, Steve started towing him back in what Tony thought was the direction of the little reef island. It took Tony a few seconds to realise that it was nearly noon and he desperately needed a drink of water.

He used the time to mull over what Steve had intended to do with this little outing. It seemed to be simple play, but Tony had no idea what importance Steve's culture assigned to such things, if any. He was no closer to a conclusion a quarter of an hour later when he caught sight of the shoreline again, either. He simply didn't have enough information. 

The rest of the day passed quietly. Steve put him back ashore, but didn't linger, and Tony assumed he needed to go hunt up something to eat. For his part, Tony spent the rest of the day taking stock of what he had and needed, then reinforced his 'roof' a little, since the leaves he'd used were going limp and yellow. That took up most of the four hours or so he'd allowed himself for the tasks. As he'd worked, he'd thought about the puzzle Steve presented, coming to no more firm conclusions than he had when he'd started the day.

By the time he was finished with what he was doing, Steve had reappeared, and was strolling leisurely out of the water, another large fish in his hands that Tony idly identified as a different type of parrotfish. Steve didn't seem to be in a talkative mood, though. All of Tony's conversational gambits rolled off him like water off a duck's back. He'd tried to draw Steve out a little as he cleaned and cooked the fish, asking how he'd found the dolphins and whether all of his people could speak to them, but the only answers he'd gotten had been short and to the point.

Things improved a little after they'd eaten.

"Why are you out here?" Steve asked, eyeing him curiously. "Your people prefer the larger islands to these."

Leaning back, reclining on the sandy beach and supporting himself on his elbows as he watched the sunset, Tony considered what to say. "I was searching for something," he said after a moment, "there are rumours that some magical object is hidden here. People disagree on what it can do, though. Some think that can control the weather, others that it keeps the lake at the center of the island clear and free of salt. Have you heard about anything like that?"

Steve gave him a thoughtful look, but it seemed to have an undertone of wariness. "I hope you find what you are searching for," he replied, dodging the question adroitly.

Tony decided to let it pass. "Well, it's not likely that I'm going to find it. It wasn't from the start, and even more so now that I have to wait for rescue. Not having a way home kind of shifts the emphasis a lot."

"I suppose it does," Steve agreed.

A mostly comfortable silence fell between them. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Steve took his leave once more, disappearing beneath the waves, as he had the previous night. Watching him go, Tony lamented the fact that he would have to leave Steve behind when he left the island.

As he tried to clear his mind enough for sleep, Tony found himself wondering why Steve had avoided answering the question about the artifact. It was odd. Steve had been pretty forthcoming about just about everything else.


	6. [Four days earlier] - Laysan

The morning dawned overcast and cool, a breeze blowing across the island and stripping away the warmth that had been blanketing it for the past couple of days. Tony woke wishing he'd brought slightly warmer clothes and very grateful that he had recovered the blanket. Hungry, he broke his fast, and stared meditatively out at the waves washing the shore of the little island.

Steve hadn't shown up yet, and that was somewhat surprising. Since he'd pulled Tony out of the water two days ago, he'd been pretty punctual about appearing to join Tony for breakfast.

In retrospect, that was kind of odd, really. There was no real reason for someone like Steve to do that. Surely, he had places to be and things to do that were not babysitting marooned adventurers on empty islands. Tony had been enjoying his company to the hilt, though, so the absence stung more than a little. He did his best to shove aside the hurt that being apparently abandoned had called up, and stood, brushing the sand off his clothes.

It seemed rather out of character for Steve to disappear without warning or saying goodbye, but Tony had literally known Steve for two days. That was far from enough time to really know anyone, let alone someone like Steve who wasn't even properly human. That Steve could speak English in the first place was a mystery that Tony hadn't considered until now. He'd just taken it for granted that Steve was a magical creature with abilities beyond Tony's understanding.

Setting those thoughts aside for later, Tony took a breath and tried to plan. Without the pleasant distraction of Steve's presence, Tony was suddenly at loose ends, so really, he might as well explore the island a bit more. His investigation of that lake at the island's center had been cut short by the thunderstorm that had sunk his plane, and if he had the free time to fill, that, at least, would be a productive way to spend the day.

"Back to work," he told himself. "You can moon over Steve later."

Tony took his time preparing himself. He cleaned up his campsite, which had been getting progressively messier with each passing day, and gathered the tinder for a fire, setting it aside in the shelter of his little lean-to. Climbing another nearby palm gained him another few coconuts. He decided he would save his attempt to fish for after he finished his explorations for the day. He didn't want to exhaust himself before he had a chance to investigate that lake.

It had been briny and murky when he'd taken his first look at it three days ago, the water cloudy enough that he couldn't see the bottom. 

He wasn't really looking forward to trying to swim in the dirty water, not sure what parasites or other dangers lurked below the surface, but he felt he ought to at least try to sound out what was near the shore with the sapling he'd cut to fish with.

Following the trail he'd cut when he'd first arrived, Tony reached the lake in far less time than it had taken him the first time. He'd needed nearly an hour and a half to hack through the underbrush with his machete. Now that he had a clear path to follow, it took him under fifteen minutes to make the walk.

When he arrived, Tony surveyed the area, and his eyes narrowed. Something had changed dramatically since he'd been here last. The murkiness of the water was simply _gone_ , and so was the smell of sea brine. The water was clear as crystal, somehow, and that was just odd. Setting aside the question of what had done this, Tony took a moment to marvel at the fact that the legends seemed to be true, that there truly was something here that could purify and desalinate an entire lake practically overnight.

He could see all the way to the bottom, and knew that that was deceptive. It seemed like the lake was a meter or two deep all over, but he'd have to be careful. In water this clear, depths were very difficult to judge.

Curiosity piqued, Tony stripped down to his pants again, in what was becoming habit for anything involving swimming on this trip. His boots and shirt in a relatively neat pile, Tony waded into the water, shivering at its cool temperature and ignoring the goosebumps that rose on his skin. It was far cooler than the warm shallow ocean waters he'd explored until now. He'd have to be careful not to spend too much time in the water, lest he get hypothermia. That did leave him at least a half hour to work with, if he was being conservative. And, given the cool cloudy weather, he was inclined to be. Well, unless he found something worth pushing his limits to get at.

It took him a few seconds to realise it, but for all that he wasn't being overly careful, his footsteps didn't stir up much silt. It was as though all the algae and mud that had been choking the lake before had simply vanished. He'd assumed it had simply been precipitated out of the water and forced to the lakebed somehow, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

When the chill water reached his chest, Tony took a deep breath and ducked his head under the surface. He came up immediately, shaking the water out of his hair and ears, and stared down at the surface of the lake in stunned surprise. This had been just about the last thing he'd expected to discover: there was someone -- or something -- singing somewhere in the waters of the lake, and it seemed likely that they were the cause of the lake's transformation.

That had _implications_ , both for him, and for what Fury wanted. Tony was not about to be party to anything that resulted in what amounted to slavery or human experimentation. Or experimentation on a sentient being, as the case might be. That had been one of his biggest reasons for joining the fight against the Nazi regime and Zemo, and his views on the topic hadn't changed since then.

Wading a little farther into the water and taking another deep breath in preparation for his dive, Tony forced back his broad grin. It seemed his trip hadn't been for nothing, after all.

Ducking his head underwater brought the haunting song back to his ears, and, prepared for it this time, Tony dove down into the lake, exploring and trying to pinpoint where the song was coming from. It seemed to reverberate through him, and sounded equally loud in all directions, as though the water itself were singing.

As he was about to run out of air, Tony spotted what looked like a shadowed grotto, off to his left and several meters deeper in the lake. A flicker of movement inside drew his attention sharply, and Tony knew that little grotto needed to be his next target. But first, he needed a fresh lungful of air.

Exhaling slowly as he ascended, Tony carefully husbanded his air until he was a meter or so from the surface. Kicking out strongly and throwing his head back, he broke the surface with a deep gasp and panted for breath for a few long seconds. He let his heart rate slow a little before he made his next dive. 

This time, instead of looking around, Tony sent himself straight down toward the little grotto he'd spotted, and noted with satisfaction that this time the song making the lake come alive seemed to get louder with each kick of his feet. The shadows inside the grotto were quite deep, despite the clarity of the water of the lake, and it hid the grotto's occupant until Tony drew level with it.

When he peered in, the song cut off abruptly, leaving a silence that felt louder than anything Tony had heard recently. A pair of eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light he'd never seen before met Tony's, and, for all that the creature's features were hidden by the darkness, Tony knew exactly who it had to be. It explained why Steve had been reticent about telling Tony what he knew about the artifact Tony was searching for and why he hadn't been at breakfast.

The surprise he felt made him snort some water up his nose. Choking and panicking, knowing that he was too far from the surface to save himself, Tony tried anyway, clawing his way upward, and doing his level best to keep the spasming of his lungs and throat from overriding the knowledge that he _couldn't_ open his mouth, or he'd drown.

He managed to make it a few meters, before the urging of his hindbrain and instinct overcame sense and reason.

Jarvis had always said he'd get in over his damn fool head someday, Tony had time to reflect before his vision went dark.


	7. [Three and a half days earlier] - Laysan

Waking up was startling, and Tony tried to pull in a breath only to have it get stuck in his throat. Pushing himself onto his side and curling up with the force of the coughing fit that hit him, Tony wanted to groan. A pair of warm hands steadied him, and Tony was glad his eyes were closed. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be much water left to force out, and Tony came to the conclusion that Steve must have gotten him onto dry land and emptied the water out of his lungs while he'd been unconscious.

It was really getting embarrassing, how often Steve had already ended up hauling him back out of water and saving him from drowning.

Not bothering to sit up, Tony waited for the coughing fit to subside completely before he let himself flop onto his back with a groan. "Damn."

Steve huffed, the mix of anger and concern he felt clearly audible. "I thought I told you not to come after me," he growled.

"I didn't," Tony retorted, feeling the first fizzles of frustration and anger go through him. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Sit on my ass all day and wait for you to show up?" He pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the way the world seemed to spin dizzyingly for a moment. "Well, newsflash! I'm not going to sit around idle!"

"So you take risks that are likely to get you killed?" Steve's voice was a low rumble and the whistle Tony had marked that first day was like a singing counterpoint to the hot anger he could hear. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that if I had nothing else to do, I might as well explore. I was thinking that I should at least make my trip out here worth something. I was _thinking_ that since I came here to look for something, I should _do_ that." Tony shoved himself to his feet and wavered for a long moment. "Don't lecture me on risks. I've been doing this for most of my life."

"Yeah? Well, I'm amazed you're still alive, then. The risks you take are pointless. Easily avoidable. And well done, you've found out what you wanted to know. What now?"

"Now?" Tony was finally steady on his feet. "Now I'm going the hell back to my camp. You can do as you please."

Grabbing his boots and shirt, Tony stalked off through the underbrush, not caring a whit that he really ought to at least put his boots on. "Tony!" Steve didn't let him escape that easily. "Tony, stop!"

Turning abruptly to face Steve and jabbing a finger at him, Tony glared. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Take your pick! There are any number. Why should I listen to you? Why should I let you order me around? Why should I care so damn much?" Tony ran his free hand roughly through his hair, not caring when his fingers caught in snarls and sand. "Why did you bother hauling me out of the water? Why?"

Steve looked caught between anger and hurt, now. "What? I should have let you drown? Do you really think I'm so heartless, just because I'm not human?"

Tony reeled back as though struck. "I-- Steve," he stuttered, searching fruitlessly for the right words.

"You do." Steve gave him a very disappointed look and pushed past him. "I really thought you might be different, you know. Well, alright. I won't trouble you any more. Keep out of the waters."

"Steve!"

Watching him disappear into the underbrush as though he'd simply vanished into thin air, Tony suddenly felt more alone than he had in years. "Shit."

It took almost everything in him not to give in to the desire to put his fist through the nearest tree trunk. Instead, he leaned against it, his knees refusing to take his weight. "I never thought that, Steve," he gritted out past the emotion trying to choke off his air, knowing Steve couldn't hear him. Wouldn't want to hear him. 

It took him almost half an hour to force himself onwards, the weight of what he'd unthinkingly done feeling like it pinned him to the spot. When he got to his campsite, it looked pristine. No one had been here since he'd left. Tony let himself fall to the sand, his legs tucked untidily under him.

The time he'd intended to spend fishing came and went, as he stared sightlessly out over the surf.

Tony didn't bother building his fire that night.


	8. [Three days earlier] - Laysan

Tony woke feeling like he hadn't slept at all. It took him a long time to persuade himself to leave his bed.

By the time he'd finished preparing and eating his breakfast, the sun was high in the sky, partially obscured by wispy clouds.

Tony ducked back into his little shelter and stretched out on his back on the sand, staring up at the dappled light hitting the roof of his little lean-to. He had no idea how to fix things with Steve, and no idea whether help was even coming for him.

Steve was probably right.

With a long drawn out sigh, Tony threw one arm over his face, blocking out the sight of the banana leaves overhead and ignoring the tears he could feel welling up. The whole argument had been so stupid and pointless anyway. He always seemed to find ways to push away everyone he cared about. Only Jarvis, Pepper and Rhodey had stayed, for reasons beyond Tony's comprehension.

One more really shouldn't matter this much. Shouldn't break him so thoroughly. Especially since he'd only known Steve for three days. But it did matter.

He had no idea how much time passed that way, so when he found himself physically hauled out of his little shelter, he yelped, surprised, and struck out.

Steve caught his arm without much trouble and scowled at him. "What is it with you?"

Tony stared silently at him, puzzled and still trying to process what was happening, until Steve let go of him with one hand to rub at his own face before he continued, sounding as though the words pained and angered him. "If you're not doing risky things that end in you drowning, you starve yourself."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Wasn't hungry. And what happened to not coming back."

It wasn't quite a question. Tony didn't want it to be one.

With a sound like a leaky air valve, Steve shoved one of his still-wrapped MREs at him. "Eat," he commanded, ignoring the not-quite-question.

Tony gave in. He opened the package and stared at it for a long moment, his appetite nonexistent.

Steve verbally prodded at him again. "Tony?"

Forcing his hands to move, he began slowly and methodically shoveling the food into his mouth, barely noticing the taste. He did feel better afterwards, for all that the food felt like a rock weighing down his stomach. "Why are you here?" Tony asked bitterly. "Decided you wanted--"

Steve cut him off with a sharp gesture, the tone of his voice making Tony think of a violin strung too tight. "Don't." 

Not actually wanting to push too far, well, not again, at any rate, Tony subsided. The tension in Steve slowly followed.

It took time, but eventually Steve spoke again. "I didn't come here to fight," he said, ignoring the way Tony bristled at the implication that he had clearly expected there to be one.

After a beat Tony prompted him, "So what _did_ you come here for?"

Steve bit back a sigh. "What do you know about my people?"

Tony eyed him, considering the situation. Steve had saved his life twice, Tony was still ridiculously attracted to the merman, despite -- or perhaps because of -- the emotions that seemed to ricochet between them, and he was no nearer to working out any of the answers to his questions. The whole situation was like quicksand. Every move he made seemed to suck him deeper into the mire, and, the more he learned, the more questions he had. "Almost nothing. Didn't know mermen were real until I met you."

Steve hesitated. "I haven't felt a pull this strong in years," he opened. "It's like nothing I've known, either. My people, we tend to form lasting bonds. Most of us are solitary, though we do gather for celebrations and such things. Gatherings are meant for unbonded to," Tony watched curiously as Steve hesitated, "to try to find someone they resonate with."

"Resonate?" Tony wasn't sure what on earth that meant, but the whole issue of bonded and unbonded sounded like it corresponded to married and unmarried.

Steve nodded. "If one of us finds someone like that, the recognition is almost immediate, and, well, intimate is the wrong word, but it feels like it reaches down into us and curls up there, like a nesting sea otter."

That was a mental image. Tony suppressed his amused snort. "And what happens then?"

"That's up to the pair, or sometimes trio." Steve shrugged. "Not all pairs who resonate decide to take things any further."

This whole discussion was fascinating, and Tony had no idea why Steve had chosen that particular topic as his lead-in. For now it didn't matter, though. His attention was well and truly caught. "But how can you tell if you resonate with someone?"

Steve shrugged. "Depends on the pair. Most sing. They say that anyone who resonates has the purest harmony with them."

"You don't, I take it. Sing, I mean." Tony hadn't really meant to ask, but now it was out there.

Steve smiled sadly. "I was always a bit ... different," he replied.

Then something Steve had said earlier finally fell into place. "Wait, you said you hadn't felt a pull this strong in a long time," he said, and Steve nodded. "You think I, what, resonate with you?"

Steve didn't speak.

Not sure what to think, Tony watched him warily. "What the hell gave you that crazy idea?"

"You called to me," Steve said simply. "Even before you got to this island, I could feel you approach. It was... disorienting."

"So you hung back to watch for a while."

Steve nodded. "I needed to know."

This explained a lot of Steve's stranger behaviour, Tony had to admit. And in retrospect that pod of dolphins Steve had hunted up for them to play with _did_ feel like a move someone might use when going courting. That didn't answer the question of why him, though, or what to do. "Know what?" Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Whether I would freak out?"

"Among other things." Steve's eyes went distant and he stared out over the waves for a time before he continued. "When you didn't, when you seemed to accept what had happened, it was. Freeing."

That was an odd choice of words. "Do you want this, then?" Tony persisted. "A relationship with me isn't going to be a simple life."

"I can see that," Steve told him, wryly. "You're one part honor and two parts trouble, and not one spare bit of sense."

Tony almost choked on the laugh that unexpectedly pulled out of him. It turned into a strange grinding sound, at the back of his throat. "Pepper and Jarvis would probably agree with you," he admitted. "But in all seriousness, Steve, what you've seen here? This ranks among my least hazardous adventures, though it is one of the strangest in recent memory."

"You have all the self-preservation instinct of a dead starfish," Steve told him, and Tony did laugh outright that time.

The sound got him a tiny but pleased smile that glimmered in Steve's eyes for a moment before it vanished again. Oddly pleased by that himself, Tony relaxed, leaning back in the sand as evening started to fall. "So what now? You're drawn to me, and I can't say I'm not attracted to you, but you," Tony searched for the words for a moment. "I don't want to take you away from your home. The life I lead, it's not a kind one. To me or to my friends."

"What matters is not the life you lead," Steve countered, "but the way you live it. There are risks and then there is foolhardiness." His hands clenched, and Tony could easily read the distress in the set of Steve's shoulders this time. "When you came after me the first time and nearly drowned yourself, I worried. When you did it a second time, I thought I'd lose you before I had a chance to even tell you any of this."

And he'd been worrying about getting too attached. Tony carefully edged closer, and took one of Steve's balled up fists in his hands, wrapping his own fingers around surprisingly soft skin that bore a hint of leathery toughness. "I'm pretty tough to kill," he joked, regretting the choice of words when Steve tensed further. "I'm still here," he added quickly, "and in one piece."

"And what of that plate over your heart?" Steve's eyes met his and the steel in them seemed to pierce right through Tony.

"Well, okay, maybe not _quite_ once piece," he admitted. Debating with himself for a moment that felt like it stretched out to infinity, Tony elaborated. "Keeps me alive. It used to run on a battery, but I've upgraded since then."

"It hurts you?"

Tony huffed. "No more than anything else I do."

They sat in silence again for a while, until the tension bled slowly back out of Steve and his hands relaxed. "I want this," Steve eventually told him, finally answering the question that had been posed earlier. "Do you?"

"I-- God help me, but I do," Tony said on a sigh, "but I haven't the first idea how this will work."

"We'll figure it out." Steve sounded like he had gotten back to solid bedrock and planted his feet. Steady and confident. "This is new to me, too, Tony. I don't know of any other cases like ours that have come up in many years."

Tony turned to face him, then, spurred on by some instinct he couldn't have named if he'd had hours to think, and found himself nose-to-nose with Steve. When had he gotten so close?

To his own surprise, he wasn't startled. Tony stayed where he was and held Steve's eyes. "Guess we'll have to muddle through it ourselves, then," he said, enjoying the look of mingled relief and happiness that flooded through Steve, so intense Tony felt like he could feel it himself.

When Steve leaned in, Tony went with the motion, closing the distance between them for a first kiss.

It was like someone had set off a flare somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he would dissolve into flame, at the sensation flooding him. Heat and warmth and wetness mixed with a pleasure so heady Tony just knew it couldn't be his own.

He'd been kissed enough times not to feel pure wonder anymore. But this... this was different.

His own surprise seemed to ricochet off Steve and come back with amusement layered over it. The strangeness of it was intoxicating, and Tony wanted more. Needed it like he needed air to breathe. He hadn't felt like this in years, if ever. Resonance indeed.

When the kiss broke, Tony had to clear his throat three times to get rid of the hoarseness choking his words. "Is it always like that?"

Steve prodded him to his feet and toward his little shelter. "No idea. I've never felt it that strong before."

They fell asleep, limbs tangled together, on the blanket, and Tony realised he felt safer now than he had in years. Even with Pepper and Jarvis around, nothing could quite match the confidence he had that Steve would keep him safe.


	9. [Two days earlier] - Laysan

When Tony woke, Steve still wrapped possessively around him, he stared at the roof of his shelter and thought.

He'd gone along with it the evening before, without really considering consequences, persuaded to gloss them over by Steve's sheer certainty that this would work out. But, Tony knew, life was far from certain. Even for someone like Steve. 

He wasn't really looking to get married. At all. He'd made that decision years ago, when he'd first started adventuring. He hadn't wanted to marry and perhaps have a family. Not when Zemo had been out to get him. Or when any adventure could have been his last. Not to mention that there would have been even odds that any children were even his, in such a marriage. 

And, sure, he'd dated. He'd even had a few long-term relationships.

This, though.

This was not going to be easy to maintain, if he still decided in favor now that his head was a little clearer. In retrospect, the strong emotional backlash to his argument with Steve and Steve's subsequent disappearance had been quite out of character for him. He hadn't been able to see it then, too mired in... whatever it had been. Not quite depression, but it had felt quite desolate and empty nonetheless. If that was likely to happen again, next time they argued -- and Tony knew they inevitably would -- he wasn't sure this was a good idea.

Not to mention the reactions he'd get from Pepper and Jarvis, once he finally got home.

For that matter, Tony stifled a groan, not wanting to wake Steve, this would be an experiment in all senses of the word, except perhaps the scientific one, seeing as it required an experiment be replicable. Steve didn't know what would happen, and Tony knew he was at just as much of a disadvantage, when it came to attempting to find any kind of information on how to handle this. Hell, he didn't even know whether Steve would be able to survive long periods of time without taking his fins out and going for a swim in sea water.

Steve probably didn't know that himself.

And then there were also the open questions about the myths about mermen and sirens that _had_ made it into human lore, and just how accurate they were. Tony had heard most of them, even if he'd disregarded them at the time. He'd already probably crossed one line, just by kissing Steve. One thing the myths more or less agreed on was that if you kissed a mermaid once, it would save you from drowning. Twice, and you would be damned to join them beneath the waves forever.

Tony wasn't sure whether he wanted to test that theory.

But, on the other hand, he definitely didn't want to give up kissing Steve, if it was going to be as intense as the one they'd shared last night. It had felt like Steve had breathed new life into him, waking parts of him that had started to wilt, like plants kept from sunlight for too long. Tony found himself staring at Steve and _wanting_ , in spite of himself.

As if on cue, Steve shifted and stretched, a contented rumble of sound escaping him, and he pulled Tony in closer. The sun had long since risen, Tony noted when he glanced out of his little shelter at the light reflecting off the waves. Tucked in close to Steve, Tony took a moment to enjoy the closeness himself before he broke the silence. 

Amused, Tony reached up and brushed Steve's hair back off his forehead. " 'Morning."

"Mmm," Steve hummed in reply, the tones of his voice sending shivers through Tony. " 'Morning."

"Tell me something," Tony prompted, letting his fingers trail lightly up Steve's abs to rest on his chest, "is there any truth to the myths?"

"Myths?" Steve rearranged them so that Tony was more or less sprawled atop him. "What are they?"

Faced with the possibility that Steve would be offended, Tony hesitated. Steve gave him an inscrutable look. Clearing his throat, Tony tried to get his thoughts in order. "There aren't a lot to start with, and what we do have is scattered, incomplete, and, well, not terribly flattering. Most of them revolve around mermaids drowning sailors." He took a deep breath and went on, ignoring the way Steve tensed under him. "Then again, most of them also say that mermaids are all that exist of your people, so clearly there's not much backing up those particular myths."

"And the others?" Steve sounded like he was carefully controlling whatever he felt.

Tony tried to keep his tone light. "They're not as dark, but they're even crazier. They say that one kiss from a mermaid can save you from drowning. I'm not sure I believe that one, either."

Steve laughed, apparently surprised by that. "I highly doubt that's possible."

"They also say," Tony went on, relaxing a bit, himself, "that if you're unlucky enough to get kissed a second time, you'll have to spend your life under the ocean with the mermaid that kissed you."

"Is that a hint?" Steve smirked at him.

"Am I going to sprout scales and a tail?" Tony shot back.

"Let's find out." Steve's hands came up to rest on his flanks and Tony suddenly found himself being kissed breathless. 

This time it felt like a fire kindling between them, light and heat and flickering color. The longer the kiss went on, the brighter it got, until it steadied. When it did, Tony found himself pushing for more, encouraging Steve to deepen the kiss and running his hands all over the skin he could reach.

Huffing into the kiss then pulling back to take a breath, Steve shifted his hands down to Tony's hips and held him firmly down, rather than let Tony continue making the tiny hitching thrusts he hadn't even been conscious of. Rather than insist that neither of them move, though, he seemed to want Tony to hold still while he moved. Tony was fine with that, he decided. Taking advantage of the leverage the position gave him, he slid his hands down between them and undid the closures on his pants, then shoved them down over his hips. Once he realised what Tony wanted, Steve helped.

The pants hit his knees, and Tony stopped caring what happened to them. 

This was moving far too quickly, and Tony knew it, but he couldn't help himself. 

Steve picked that moment to line up their hips and grind up against Tony's bare skin. It sent all the thoughts right back out of Tony's head in favor of heat, friction and movement.

When they hit their peaks, both of them spilling all over Steve's skin, it was a sensation like flying, and Tony knew it wouldn't take long for him to get addicted to that.

They lay there in the shade, letting their breathing regulate and just enjoying the afterglow, for the better part of a half hour.

After that, the rest of the day didn't really register on Tony. He went through it without paying much attention to what he was doing, and spent more than half the day letting his memories linger over what had happened that morning, reliving it because he could.

That night, when the sun sank below the horizon, Steve stayed.


	10. [One day earlier] - Laysan

Waking up alone again was an unpleasant surprise after the revelations of the previous afternoon. Tony groaned.

Clearly, it had been too much to hope that things between him and Steve might be settled now. There was no question in his mind that he wanted to pursue whatever this peculiar resonance between them was. It was a mystery to unravel, and he'd always had a difficult time resisting those.

It helped that this one came wrapped in a very pretty package, too.

But Steve's mixed signals were starting to grate more than a little. It was very nearly more than Tony could handle right now to try to work out where he stood with the merman, after the emotional ups and downs of the past 24 hours.

Before he could get too wrapped up in those thoughts, a familiar high pitched whistle got his attention. Gathering his wits and ducking out of his shelter and into the morning sunlight, Tony tried not to let his relief show too obviously. It seemed Steve had decided to catch breakfast, and he'd made sure it would be enough for both of them.

"And what have you brought me today," Tony asked him rhetorically, eyeing the large reef fish in Steve's hands.

Shedding his scales, Steve grinned at him. "Build your fire," he said, ignoring the mild jab, "and eat your breakfast."

Eyeing Steve speculatively, Tony followed directions. He had no idea what the merman had in mind for the day, but it was clear he had some kind of plan.

They ate in comparative silence. It didn't take long for Steve's plan to become obvious. He pulled Tony gently but insistently toward the surf. Tony didn't resist. "What are you planning this time?"

"You'll see." Steve replied, irrepressible.

It felt like a reprise of their first such outing. Steve didn't waste time in putting his scales back on, and urged Tony wordlessly on until he gave in and let Steve tow him out past the breakers and into slightly deeper waters.

Expecting that Steve wanted to show him something else interesting, as he had the last time, Tony was unprepared for Steve's bold caresses. Confident hands ran down his flanks to linger between his legs, making Tony jerk in surprise and take a mouthful of seawater. It made him cough and sputter. Steve rode out the motion and kept up the touches, but let Tony pull him to the surface.

"You are a menace," he grumbled at Steve, knowing Steve wouldn't be able to reply verbally. He got an innocent look in return that he didn't believe for a moment. "Nice try," he said with a huff, and letting his own hands wander in revenge. "If you're going to tease like that, you'd best follow through."

Steve's innocent look turned into an expression bordering on a leer and Tony was hard pressed not to laugh at him. It was incongruous on his features. Leaning in close, Tony held Steve's eyes, and trying not to let the emotions he felt battering at his control overwhelm him. He felt like there was a storm battering at his eroding defenses, a flood about to crest over the levees he'd put in place years ago.

Trying to run his hands through Steve's hair and down the back of his neck revealed features Tony hadn't noticed before. His ears tapered off into tiny fins that looked rather like wings to Tony's fanciful imagination, and the skin of his scalp had subtle ridges in it that were hidden by his hair. The skin at the nape of Steve's neck was rough and felt like it had a covering of scales, for all that it _looked_ like bare skin.

Steve definitely enjoyed the touch, though, pushing into it like a purring cat begging for attention.

Tony did it again, using his blunt nails to gently scratch at Steve's scalp and got an almost obscene writhe out of him that rubbed him against just the right parts of Tony's body. It sent a frisson down Tony's spine, and he leaned in to continue experimenting. He latched onto the skin at the side of Steve's neck with lips and tongue, and tried teasing it with his tongue. That got him very little reaction, until he tried applying pressure with his teeth as well. 

An almost pained sound escaped Steve, who tensed all over for a long moment.

Listening to Steve's breath seem to whistle with every inhalation, Tony shoved back his amusement, and repeated the action, slightly higher on Steve's neck, and brought his hands up to explore Steve's torso some more. He hadn't had the opportunity before. Or, that was to say, he hadn't had the simultaneous desire to and opportunity to follow through.

Steve outright groaned when Tony's hands caught on a pair of rough spots over his ribs, and Tony immediately pressed his advantage. That was definitely a good reaction.

It didn't take much more to send Steve tumbling over the knife's edge he was walking. The way he squirmed and writhed would have worried Tony, if he hadn't been attempting to get just this kind of reaction out of Steve. It was the best kind of revenge for the way Steve had more or less made him come on command the night before.

Rocked gently by the waves, and pointedly ignoring just how interested he was himself, Tony waited for Steve to come down off the high, enjoying the very dazed look in Steve's eyes.

It took Steve some five minutes to gather himself up from wherever his wits had been scattered, and Tony spent the time watching. The gradual return of awareness had been interesting to watch.

Once he'd regained the ability to think coherently, Steve's expression had gone determined, and Tony'd eyed him warily. That could either be fantastic or--

He didn't get a chance to finish the thought. Steve's hands wrapped possessively around his waist, and held him pinned firmly against Steve, who looked rather like he'd been issued a personal challenge he couldn't back down from. The position left Tony's hard cock pinned between them, and made him twitch. It would have been a thrust had he had any leverage, but his position and the buffer the water provided made it impossible.

Steve watched him, eyes knowing, and his hands swept down Tony's legs to his knees, spreading him wide around the solid trunk of Steve's tail.

The action sent a shudder down his spine and gave him the leverage to rub himself against scales. It was a distinctly odd sensation, smooth as silk one way and scratchy the other. Steve noticed immediately, and hitched him up higher, leaving Tony pressed against soft skin and looking down at blond hair that only just shaded blue eyes. 

The emotion finally overwhelmed him, and he just knew this had to be part of that resonance Steve had been talking about. It had happened last time, and it would happen again, and everything about it was... too much. Tony couldn't help the way he came untouched, and leaned limply against Steve, fighting for air.

"Holy."

Steve snickered at him, pleased, and let him revel in the afterglow for a minute before making for the shore and the campsite.

Feeling like he'd been put through the wringer, Tony let him. As amazing as that had been, it had also been quite tiring. No wonder Steve had insisted that they eat first. Once they got back to the shore, the first thing Tony did was make a beeline for his supply of fresh water.

He needed a drink.


	11. [Present day] - Laysan

It wasn't until almost noon the following day that anything interesting came to pass. Tony had spent the time indulging himself, letting himself do nothing. He didn't need to maintain his shelter, and water and food were no problem. He had the leisure to relax, so he did. It took very little encouragement to get Steve to join him, and laze on the sand under the shade of Tony's shelter with Tony tucked close.

When he'd glanced up, his attention caught by a flicker of sunlight off the breakers, Tony'd grinned widely. "Well, I'll be damned."

Steve gave him a look. "What?"

"That's the airship. My friends are here." His excitement energizing him, Tony sat up and grabbed for the remains of the survival kit, starting to hurriedly rummage through it. "Come on, come on, please tell me there's a mirror in here. I'd settle for a polished surface."

Steve watched him, bemused, and said nothing.

It took him a moment, but he found the first aid kit, and pulled it out of the pack. The contents might be useless, soaked as they had been by seawater, but there ought to be a mirror inside it. Opening the snap closures and the buckle holding it shut, Tony sorted quickly through the ruined bandages and tubes of ointment. "Hah, there it is."

The mirror was small and had a large crack running right down its center, but it would serve. "Hope you're ready for this," he told Steve. "I don't intend to tell anyone else, but Pepper and Jarvis will need to know. They're trustworthy."

Looking mostly unconcerned, Steve shrugged and said nothing, but Tony could tell he was uncomfortable with the idea. "Jarvis is the one who maintains this," Tony added, tapping at the cover of the repulsor pump with his empty hand. "In a very literal sense, he holds my life in his hands every time he does."

That got Steve to relax a bit, but Tony could tell he wasn't truly at ease.

Stating that aside for the moment, he focused on remembering his Morse code. It had been some time since he'd needed to use it, but it would make for a good identifying mark.

Once he was sure he'd fixed it in his mind, Tony held up one hand at arm's length, and sighted along his arm to the airship. With the mirror in his other hand, he signaled the helm of the ship. /JARVIS/

It would take the airship at least another hour to reach them, and until then, Tony would have to continue hailing them at intervals. He daren't take the chance that they might pass him by because whoever was at the wheel glanced down at the navigational charts at the wrong moment or something. Steve watched him silently, clearly curious.

The third time Tony hailed the airship she visibly heeled to starboard, changing her heading to head straight for the island, and Tony made a relieved sound. Letting himself fall back to the warm sands, the relief he felt seeming to drain him of strength, Steve was there to catch him and tuck him back against his side.

"They're coming," he told Steve. "Ideally you'd have some pants to wear, but I guess the blanket from the survival kit will have to suffice. We'll fish the plane out of the water before we leave."

The forty-five minutes that passed while they watched the airship loom larger and larger in the sky were quiet. Steve gave the impression of someone steeling himself to take a long leap off a short pier, and Tony didn't quite know what to say. He'd discussed this with Steve, and there wasn't much more he could do, short of buying this little island outright. 

"You alright?" Tony prodded him verbally as the airship descended and its shadow fell on the island, seeming to instantly lower the temperature by at least ten degrees.

"I'm not sure," Steve admitted. "It will be a big change."

"For all of us," Tony told him. "We'll do what we can to make it smooth."

"I know." The smile Steve gave him was small and pale, but it was a smile nonetheless.

An indeterminate amount of time later that could have been a minute or an hour, the rope ladder of the airship unrolled in front of Tony, and he grabbed hold of it almost instinctively. "Come on, Steve," he invited. "Tie off that blanket around your hips, and let's climb aboard."

It was the work of another hour to get the plane aboard and find Steve some clothes that more or less fit, and then Tony found himself pinned in place by Jarvis' stare. "Gonna tell us what the hell happened?"

Pepper stepped up to Jarvis' shoulder, lending him her support. "I'll bet it's a hell of a story."

Laughing, Tony turned to find Steve and catch his eyes. "You could say that. "I'll tell it over dinner. First I want a shower and a fresh set of clothes."

Pepper gave him a sardonic look. "If this story doesn't include details on that very naked gentleman you managed to produce out of thin air, I will not be happy with you."

Jarvis nodded. "I'd like to know to whom I gave away my only spare set of trousers."

Steve went red, making Tony snicker. "Fine," he conceded. "I guess that's fair."


	12. [Epilogue: One year later] - New York, New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fill for the 2016 Cap-IM holiday exchange community prompt: "shower sex".

Tony wasn't surprised to hear the en-suite shower running when he shouldered open his bedroom door. Steve was likely indulging again. It hadn't taken him long to work out that he could shower as long as he wanted without running out of warm water, as long as he was at Tony's, and taken to that like a literal fish to water.

Tony had worried a little the first time, since Steve hadn't come out for an hour. Cautiously investigating, since at the time he hadn't yet come to grips with Steve's opinions on privacy and propriety, had revealed that Steve was very much enjoying himself, albeit not sexually. That had changed the moment Tony had walked in, though. Steve's eyes had caught his, and the effect had been mesmerizing. Tony had felt like a moth caught by the beauty of a flame, unable to look away, and not really wanting to, either. 

Shaking off the memories, Tony grinned. The shower had since become one of Steve's favourite places to jump him. Warm and wet and private and sheltered, it was a bit like being in their own little world, away from the worries and dangers of the world. And it had become strongly associated with sex, meantime.

It wasn't uncommon for him to come home and let himself fall onto his bed only to be, well, aroused by the sounds of Steve getting himself off under the spray. For all that he was a private person, Steve tended to be noisy in bed, and quite uninhibited. 

Tony loved it.

Today was no different, either, he noted, stripping off his leather jacket, followed by his belt, and emptied his pockets onto the dresser. Done, he stretched with a tired but relieved groan, sore shoulders protesting, and removed his shoes and socks.

Feeling sufficiently undressed, Tony opened the door and stepped into the bathroom.

He was immediately enveloped in a cloud of warm humid air and the change meant he needed to pause for a moment while his lungs adjusted. The first breath always made him feel like he'd just run a mile.

Steve, naturally, had noticed him immediately, and made a questioning sound. Even now, he tended to speak as little as he could get away with unless he was alone with Tony.

"Long day," Tony told him, "but not a difficult one. We can talk details later."

He'd been out looking for sources -- preferably reliable ones, but he'd take what he could get -- on an artifact he'd heard could be found somewhere in the islands of the Indian Ocean. Steve had insisted on going with him for that trip, and nevermind that Tony usually took him along anyway. He'd become quite a proficient fighter in the past year, adjusting well to doing things on legs rather than underwater, and Tony had discovered he had a lot of artistic talent as well. He and Pepper had declared Steve the new artist for Marvels and ignored the feeble objections Steve had made. After the first week, Steve had been hooked.

Steve made an amused sound and reached out past the curtain separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom to hook his hand in the waistband of Tony's pants and haul him into the warm spray.

"Hey," Tony sputtered, laughing. "You know clothes are supposed to come off first."

Steve ignored him in favor of pulling him in for a kiss, his hands drifting down to rest on Tony's hips. Tony went willingly, reaching up to twine his fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve's neck with a happy hum.

The kiss eventually broke, becoming a series of slow touches instead, as they stood nose-to-nose in the spray of warm water. It was just the temperature the surf had been around the island where he'd met Steve.

"Feeling nostalgic?" Tony teased him a little. "Remembering?" Steve's grip on his hips tightened, and Tony grinned. "Or were you _indulging_ without me?"

"Bit of all three," Steve admitted easily, his nose bumping against Tony's. "You come in here to join me?"

"Maybe I did." One of the best things about their relationship was that Steve was just about always willing, provided he felt they had enough privacy, and both of them enjoyed the closeness immensely, letting it reaffirm their own feelings and reinforce their knowledge of one another. "You going to let me?"

Steve smirked at him wickedly. "Maybe I will. Going to convince me?"

Tony gave him an arch look. Challenge accepted. "Hold still," he said, and let his own hands drop to Steve's hips. Steve had heard that cue before, and doubtless knew what he had in mind immediately, but Tony didn't leave him time to speak, dropping down to one knee, then both, and set to work teasing Steve mercilessly.

Firming his grip on the wet and slippery skin of Steve's hips, Tony enjoyed the way Steve's hands buried themselves in his hair as he proceeded to tease all the skin within reach except what Steve wanted most. 

The first time he'd done this with Steve had been awkward and a bit fumbling. Steve hadn't known what to expect, and it had been over almost embarrassingly quickly. That had been the day Tony had found out that Steve had more than one round in him. It had been the day Steve had found out that Tony got off on seeing his lovers enjoy themselves.

Leaning in to nip, kiss, and lick his way up Steve's inner thigh to the cock that hung, heavy and hard, at its apex, Tony smiled to himself. The anticipation was making Steve tremble slightly with the effort of holding still. "Tony," Steve gritted past his teeth, "I need more."

Well. Far be it from him to deny Steve anything. He wasn't done teasing, but on the other hand he wanted more, himself. Deciding he could continue this game later, Tony gave them both what they wanted. Letting go of Steve's hip with one hand and wrapping it around the shaft of Steve's cock, Tony lined them up and licked Steve, from root to tip, before he took the head in his mouth and started teasing at the slit with the tip of his tongue.

It drew a wordless shout out of his lover that was accompanied by a shot of lust so strong it shuddered across the bond that had grown between them. The sensation had Tony moaning around his mouthful, and that, in turn, was quickly driving Steve to distraction. 

Drawing Steve deeper into his mouth until his cock pressed against the back of his throat, Tony glanced up. Steve looked _wrecked_ in the best possible way, disheveled, gasping for air, and staring down at him with wild dark eyes. Their eyes met, and the lust pounding through him seemed to zing up his spine as it ricocheted between them, like a beam of light caught between two mirrors.

Tony groaned, the feeling alone almost too much for him, and swallowed around Steve's cock, taking him deeper. The sound that escaped Steve, strangled and verging on an animalistic growl, made Tony _want_. He wanted Steve in him, around him, touching him. He wanted Steve's affection, his touches, and his kisses. Steve was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Tony wanted him to know it. Wanted desperately for it to echo as clearly across their bond as Steve's desire, and knew that it would.

It didn't take much more than that for Steve to come hard, curling forward with the force of it. "Tony! Tony, oh," he gasped out, his hands flying to Tony's shoulders without a conscious decision. 

Enjoying the emotional warmth that washed over him as Steve tried to catch his breath, Tony pulled back just enough to take a breath, then swallowed him back down. That move made Steve jolt, and would have made Tony choke if he hadn't been expecting the reaction. As it was, he let the move push Steve that little bit deeper, and held him there.

His ability to speak gone more or less out the metaphorical window, Steve let his hands run up and down Tony's neck and shoulders.

The goal wasn't to let Steve recover, though. Tony swallowed around him and got a twitch of Steve's hips in response. Looking up to meet Steve's half-closed eyes was enough to make Steve take a shuddering breath and pull back just enough to let Tony breathe.

"Tony," he managed to say, his tone reverent, before Tony cut him off by taking him in deep again.

Steve tensed, hard, and his cock twitched where it was buried deep in Tony's mouth.

Tony bit back his smirk and did it again, letting Steve pull back before swallowing him down a third time. That time he got a wavering keen, and he could tell Steve would be up for more soon.

Holding the pose until he started feeling fuzzy around the edges as he ran out of air, Tony continued working Steve's lovely cock, reveling in the twitches and bitten-off sounds he got in response.

Steve eventually tightened his grip on Tony's hair and gently pulled him off.

Knowing he probably looked as wrecked as Steve, by now, Tony just let his lover do as he pleased. "Good?" he asked, hearing the hoarseness of his own voice, and seeing the shiver it drew out of Steve.

"Amazing." Steve hauled him to his feet after a beat and pulled him in close for a fierce kiss. Tony took the opportunity to give as good as he was getting, trying to break Steve's control as best he could. When it broke, Steve added. "My turn. Hands against the wall."

The knowledge that this was about to get a lot more intense was only making it harder to hold back. Tony complied readily, wanting more. It took some control not to squirm, though, as impatience bled into the mix of emotions driving him onward. "Come on, Steve," he urged his lover onwards, "get your fingers in me. I want to feel you."

With a possessive growl, Steve set to work. It didn't take him long to strip Tony down to his bare skin, lube up his fingers, and work them in one by one, until he was confident Tony could take him. He was always meticulously careful about this part, and for all that he carefully kept away from all the most sensitive areas, it always simultaneously gratified Tony and drove him a little crazy. "Shit, Steve, come on, give it to me, I need more," he said, trying to goad his lover into moving on to the fun part of this little exercise. "I'm ready. Come on, please. Do it. You know we both want it."

Without a word, probably biting at his lower lip in an attempt to keep a grip on his control as Tony knew Steve did when he was aroused, Steve's fingers disappeared, leaving only the phantom sensation of the stretch behind, along with the tickle of the water running down his back and past his hole.

Luckily for his sanity, Steve didn't keep him waiting long. The rapport between them grew stronger, as Steve used his grip on Tony to tilt Tony's hips just so with one hand and use the other to steady himself. The feeling of connection, far beyond any he'd ever felt with his other lovers, seemed to slot into place with a click, and then Steve was leaning against him, fully seated.

Steve's lips rested against the nape of his neck, and the stretch of having Steve so deep inside made something in him go shivery.

They stayed like that for a few seconds that felt more like minutes, and Tony couldn't stop the whine from building at the back of his throat.

In response, Steve kissed his way up the side of Tony's neck and set his teeth in the hollow behind Tony's ear, biting down just enough that Tony knew he'd feel it afterward. "Oh God," he groaned, the sensation seeming to ignite something inside him, "Steve, move."

"Not yet," Steve told him, the waver in his voice betraying just how much effort it took to hold still. "Want to savor this."

Harshly throttling back on his need as best he could, Tony gasped. "Well, savor it faster!"

Steve huffed at him, obviously trying not to laugh outright. "Feeling demanding, are you?"

"I wouldn't need to if you'd stop teasing," Tony pointed out, distantly amazed he could still find the words to string together. It had taken him longer than usual, though.

"You like the teasing."

Tony bit back the retort, and instead tried to goad Steve into motion. Leaving his hands where they were, he rocked his hips back, changing the angle just enough. It left Steve pressed up against that amazing point deep inside, and Tony threw his head back with a groan.

That seemed to be the drop of water to break the dam, and Steve grabbed at him, holding Tony still while he drew back, inch by perfect inch. He paused when he'd nearly pulled out fully, then slammed himself home. The pace he set was slow, but he wasn't holding back his strength much, and fuck if that wasn't driving Tony even higher. The feelings singing across the bond between them were intoxicating, softening the almost harsh edges of the movements with the sheer adoration they had for one another, and somehow making everything that little bit better.

"Steve, God, I'm--" Tony tried not to let his hands clench into fists so tight his nails cut at his palms, "Not gonna last long… if you keep that up."

"Go on," Steve told him, and slid one hand around to toy with the head of Tony's cock, just the way Tony liked it, "let go."

There was no resisting any longer. In a rush that reminded Tony of the pounding roar of a waterfall, the mix of physical and emotional pleasure poured through him, and he came with a choked moan.

Steve tensed up, every muscle going taut, and managed two more jerky thrusts of his own before he came himself with a shout.

They stood under the spray, fighting for air and clinging to one another, in the aftermath. Somehow, the sensations never seemed to dull or dim, no matter how many times they had sex, and Tony couldn't seem to get enough. He could only hope it stayed this way forever.

Steve's hands ran through his hair, then travelled down the back of his neck.

Usually they would have ventured further, until they hit his ribs, but today they stopped dead. "Tony?"

"Mmm?" Still languid, Tony couldn't seem to muster up worry, though he heard surprise in Steve's voice.

"Tony," Steve sounded awestruck, now, "you have _scales_."

The last of the languid feeling vanished, and Tony blinked. "I what?"

"You have scales." Steve's hands smoothed over them, then ran back up, against the grain, and Tony bit back a startled yelp.

"That feels _bizarre_ ," he told Steve, swatting lazily at his lover.

Steve did it again, ignoring him. "But, you _have scales_."

Tony wasn't sure what he thought about that, frankly, but he didn't think it required this much fussing. His hands, he noticed when he pulled them away from the wall to scrub at his face and through his hair, had changed subtly, too. There were a few scales in the hollow between forefinger and thumb, glinting vaguely reddish in the light, and his skin had gotten tougher.

"So I do." Tony could hear the vague amusement in his own voice.

Steve's arms went around his waist tightly. "Tony," he mumbled, "has this ever happened before?"

"I don't think so?" Tony replied, as he turned his hands over and over, back and forth, just to watch the light catch on the scales. The iridescence was oddly fascinating.

Steve's hands caught his, and Tony found himself pinned gently against his lover's broad chest. "Come on," he said quietly, "let's get you dried off."

They took their time in peeling themselves apart. Steve gingerly pulled out, and they spent a few very nice minutes cleaning each other up, neither of them letting go of the other for longer than necessary.

They stepped out of the shower and dried off before they stepped back out into the much cooler and drier air of the bedroom. Suddenly cold, Tony hastily peeled back the covers on the bed and slid under them. Steve didn't hesitate to follow suit, pulling Tony close again until they'd ended up in their customary tangle of limbs.

For his part, Tony couldn't help but wonder at the lack of shock he felt. It was clear that some part of him had expected weird things to follow on the heels of accepting Steve into his life, and, well, here they were. Instead, he found himself cataloguing the changes, subtle as they were. There were the scales on his hands and the nape of his neck, and the changes to the skin of his hands and wrists. Not much more. Although, now that he thought about it, Steve had been changing too, adjusting subtly, and becoming more human, for all that he regularly lounged in Tony's bathtub with his scales on. His voice had just about lost that whistling undertone it had had at the beginning, and his ability to hold his human form had improved by leaps and bounds. He could hold it for more than a month at a time, now, if he chose. He just preferred not to.

"Steve," he broke the building silence. "Just how complete do you think this change is going to be?"

There was no question in his mind that he refused to give this up, and he wasn't about to let Steve think he wanted to.

Steve shrugged, as best he could. "I have no idea. Pretty sure this surprised me more than you."

"Looks that way," Tony shot back, snickering at him. "You gonna take me swimming again sometime, handsome? Like we did when we met?"

Steve grumbled something under his breath before he replied. "Damned right, I am."

"Good." That day had a lot of good memories attached to it and they both loved remembering it. Tony bit back a yawn. "If these aren't gone again by morning, you're showing me how to make them disappear," he declared, gesturing with his changed hands.

"I can work with that."


End file.
